


Blossom

by elenajames



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Breeding, Implied Relationships, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacles, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 20:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15445101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/elenajames
Summary: “....huh.”“That’s - that’s all you have to say?” Auston mutters, self-consciously closing his legs.





	Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://78.media.tumblr.com/05455f22133052c0c7341d6bf508486c/tumblr_pbav3goSZI1ui50dco1_1280.jpg).   
> In basic explanation, all first round picks have one to allow for reproduction. Idk, ask the hockey gods.

“....huh.” 

 

“That’s - that’s all you have to say?” Auston mutters, self-consciously closing his legs. His bloom tendrils wriggle in protest, but start to fold in on themselves. 

 

“I mean,” Mitch shrugs. “It looks pretty much like mine. Your colors are cool, though. Like a sunset or something.” 

 

“What colors are yours?” Auston knows his is more yellow and red, with deeper pinks and even hints of purple underneath, but he doesn’t want to admit to having examined it  _ that _ much. 

 

“It’s blue and white.” Mitch grins, unabashed. “Wanna see?” 

 

“I . . . are you sure?” Auston had come to Mitch because, well, he knew that - as a first round pick - Mitch had a bloom, too, and he seemed like a better option than Willy to help Auston deal with the persistent  _ need _ he’d been feeling lately. He just hadn’t expected Mitch to be so casual about it.

 

“Yeah. Pretty much anyone who has one is compatible, you know? It’ll bloom for you.” 

 

Auston watches as Mitch strips, trying not to stare and make it weird - or, well, weirder. Mitch sits on the bed across from Auston, spreading his legs. Slowly but surely, the bud beneath his balls swells, steadily spreading open. 

 

“You can touch. It’ll help,” Mitch encourages softly, obviously having taken notice of Auston’s interest. 

 

With tentative fingers, Auston reaches out, runnings careful fingertips along the edge of Mitch’s bloom. Sure enough, it unfolds more quickly, tendrils uncurling to wend around his fingers, tickling along his palm. Mitch sighs as Auston keeps petting, feeling slick well up beneath his touch until the bloom opens fully. It’s white rimmed in bright blue, just like Mitch said. Objectively pretty, the sight of it makes Auston’s own bloom twitch in interest. 

 

He’s still wet, can feel the slickness on his thighs, and Auston only hesitates a moment before letting out a slow breath. “Do you still want to?” 

 

Mitch smiles easily at him. “If you do. No pressure.” 

 

Slowly, Auston slides back and spreads his legs in a mirror of Mitch’s position. Mitch shifts to his knees and crawls between Auston’s legs, gently guiding his legs a little further apart to give himself room. His fingers tease at Auston’s bloom, just brushing over the tendrils along the outside. The light touch makes Auston twitch. It’s been a while - since the last night he spent with the guys on Team North America, to be honest - and Auston can feel it when the tendrils wind around Mitch’s fingers, pulling him closer. 

 

“Mitch -” He half means to apologize, but it turns into a moan when Mitch runs his fingers through the tendrils around the edge. Auston has to bite his lip to keep from being too loud when Mitch teases a finger along the opening, closing his eyes with a sharp inhale as Mitch pushes a finger into him. Mitch huffs a laugh at how Auston tendrils keep tugging at him, and that finally gets Auston to open his eyes again. “Don’t laugh.” 

 

“It really has been a while, huh, Matts?” Mitch’s words are teasing but his words come out breathless as he presses deeper. Auston shudders at the drag of callused fingers inside him, a gush of slick welling out of him as his bloom twitches hard. “Fuck, you’re wet.” 

 

“Mitch, just- come on.” 

 

Pulling his fingers out, Mitch knee-walks his way up between Auston’s legs. His bloom has mostly folded itself away, now, but there’s still smears of wetness on his thighs that are tacky-wet when they meet the back of Auston’s. 

 

Mitch guides himself in, gasping aloud when all of Auston’s tendrils wrap themselves around his cock, coaxing him deeper. Some encircle his balls when Mitch is all the way in and Auston clutches at his back, overwhelmed at all the stimulation. He opens his mouth to tell Mitch to  _ move _ already, but Mitch readjusts and then thrusts in sharply. 

 

“Oh  _ fuck _ ,” Auston breathes. He feels lit up from the inside, his bloom so sensitive that he can feel every inch of Mitch’s cock, every bit of friction as Mitch fucks him. It’s dizzyingly good, quelling the ache that had been building between his hips for weeks, and Auston knows he’s not going to last long. 

 

Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like Mitch is either. He’s moaning continuously, fucking Auston almost entirely without finesse. There’s a wet squelch that accompanies every thrust, and knowing that it’s because of the slick welling from his bloom, Auston blushes hotly, closing his eyes. Mitch kisses his cheek, the corner of his mouth where their panted breaths mingle together. 

 

Mitch comes first with a stuttery groan, dropping his head to rest against Auston’s shoulder. The hot burst of come makes the little tendrils lining the inside of Auston’s bloom shiver, the shock of sensation tearing a shout from his throat. He comes over his own belly, his bloom pulsing and twitching, leaking a steady trickle of wetness. 

 

“Shit,” Mitch laughs, breathless. He kisses Auston’s neck gently as he pulls out, and Auston barely refrains from snapping his leg shut as a gush of slick. Thankfully, his bloom closes just enough to stem the flow, and Auston slumps back against the sheets. Mitch flops down beside him, wriggling close so he can drape an arm over Auston’s waist. 

 

Auston grumbles about being sticky, but Mitch just huffs a laugh at him, and Auston lets it lay. His complaint is mostly token, anyway; his bloom is still shivering with aftershocks, leaving his legs weak and draining him of any real desire to move. Sneaking a hand between his legs, Mitch pets along the tendrils, getting his fingers wet with slick. All Auston can do is sigh when that same sticky-wet hand lands on his chest, Mitch’s fingers curling against Auston’s skin as he snuggles in. 

 

“You suck.” 

 

“Mhm. Later. Nap now.” 

 

Auston almost snipes back, but he wonders if Mitch will keep his word, so he just pokes Mitch in the side and closes his eyes for his own post-coital nap. 

 


End file.
